


A Place in the Country

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Midlife Crisis, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, infidelity of omc, past Ransom/OMC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:31:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Whatever the case was, it felt almost like a visceral relief to get behind the wheel of his car and just drive.  He didn’t know where the fuck he was going, but as the lights of Boston in his rear view mirror began to fade, he finally felt like he could breathe again.And he hadn’t realised just how damn long he’d been gasping for air.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mxlfoydraco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxlfoydraco/gifts).



> This is written 1- for my love of Ranskov which I don't write nearly enough of. 
> 
> And 2- for my forever saltmate Serra who just finished up her final week of term and did amazing, and shares my love of this ship, and who deserves all the good things.
> 
> This has three parts, and will be finished up in the next few days. There are some bits of canon that still exist- like Samwell Hockey and being teammates, Zimbits, and NHL Jack. But Tater never went to the NHL, and Providence is a fictionalised very tiny town in Rhode Island where Ransom ends up when he bails on his life.
> 
> The unhealthy coping mechanisms tag is referring to Ransom who decides to deal with his unhappiness by packing up and leaving without a plan. He gets better. This is ultimately a happy fic.
> 
> The infidelity tag is not amongst the main ships--it happens at the beginning between Ransom/OMC.
> 
> If I missed any tags, feel free to let me know.

All I thought I wanted was a front door  
All I thought I wanted was a place in the country  
Now I realise I wanted so much more  
Some I love but you I adore

-Adam Ant

*** 

“Why so glum, chum?”

Justin glanced up from his laptop screen, a wavy line of retinal burn marring Adam’s face as his friend lounged in his office doorway. He blinked, scrubbing at his face, then sat back in his chair and groaned. Once upon a time, it had been comfortable. Once upon a time it was the dream desk, and the dream chair, in the dream office, at his dream job.

Consulting. After Samwell, and hockey, and fucking off pre-med—it was consulting. It was a rushed MBA and moving to Boston. He remembered the first day, when they toured the facility, he didn’t have a damn clue what the hell anyone was talking about. Now he says words he knows, and understands, and he heads up projects and gets praise, and he can’t remember the last time he worried about what was being deducted out of his bank account.

And it was supposed to make him happy, right? He had just wanted to do something…different. He was tired of living up to his parents’ expectations of what they wanted for him, never taking five minutes to even consider what he might want to do that’s not being a lawyer or a doctor or…something.

And okay sure, he didn’t want to be some poor college drop out living on Holtzy’s sofa for the rest of his life, but he would have taken it over being miserable in some job across the country where he left behind anything that made him feel human.

So in a way, it kind of felt like a slap in the face when this big, bold life that was supposed to be beautiful and fulfilling suddenly became…less than.

Suddenly Boston’s winters are just cold and harsh instead of magical. And he’s not living on Holtzy’s sofa. He’s got a really nice brownstone built in eighteen-something-or-other with hardwood floors that heat up with the press of a button, and an actual hot-tub in a glass-enclosed room which overlooked the street. 

Holster’s married to March, two kids, one on the way, five minutes down the street. Ransom’s boyfriend—Mitch—seriously, _Mitch_ –pretty much lived with him now and had been for the last two years.

It should be everything he wanted.

Only the last time he checked his clocked hours, he was going on seventy and it was only Friday, and he has a meeting Saturday at ass-o’clock with London, and he hadn’t actually seen Mitch apart from when he crawled into bed at two am for the last three weeks.

It just kind of feels like shit.

It feels wrong, like it wasn’t the thing he wanted after all. And there was a part of him that wanted to tell Adam all about it, because through all this shit, Adam’s still Adam—he’s still _Holtzy_ , his co-captain and his basic everything. The man he probably would have fallen in love with and married had either of them really been inclined toward each other.

But Adam looked fucking happy all the time with his cute wife and their cute kids, and their cute house with the yard and swing set, and he just doesn’t have the stones to throw a huge storm cloud over everything like that. And if Justin had a dime for every time he wondered if he was just compromising, just settling so he could stay on even footing with Adam while his best friend got to be happy, and Justin was just living some echo of someone else’s life, he’d be at least five times richer than he was.

“I think Mitch is cheating on me.” It just sort of…slipped out. And the worst part was Justin kind of meant it. I mean, the signs were there. Lack of sex, but Mitch was putting more and more effort into his appearance. He had unaccounted for late nights, and a lot of random text messages, and Justin had seen him more than once erasing entire text threads which he claimed were business stuff and he was just making sure he didn’t run out of memory.

Like phones these days could run out of memory from text messages.

The worst part was Justin wasn’t sure he cared. Like maybe he’d ignored it for so long, not because he didn’t know, but because he just didn’t give a shit, and letting it go on was so much easier than dealing with the fall out.

He felt like such a mess, and he felt even worse when he watched Adam’s eyes get huge, and his grip on the door handle go kind of white-knuckled. 

“Are you fucking serious?”

Justin dragged a hand down his face, then shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I…things have been shit lately, you know? We’ve been swamped and he’s been busy and there’s been some…stuff.”

Like Mitch’s business trip to Maui in October, but when Justin looked into it, he couldn’t find a single record of anything happening in Maui. As far as he knew, they didn’t even have contacts there. But yeah…

“Coffee.” Adam’s voice booked no argument, and frankly Justin kind of felt like if he didn’t get out of the office in the next five minutes, he was going to explode and probably take four blocks with him. So he didn’t hesitate when he grabbed his jacket and followed Adam out onto the street.

They walked to their favourite little Italian place around the corner from the office. One of those hole-in-the-wall, family run places that looked like it was going to give you some rare form of salmonella from the outside, but inside looked like your grandma’s kitchen. They were recognised immediately, and waved to their usual table, and soon enough had a basket of breadsticks and two glasses of sweet tea because it had been nine years since they lived anywhere near Eric Bittle, but they still couldn’t get over that sweet, syrupy goodness.

“Alright, bro, spill,” Adam said, pulling his fork from his salad and pointing it at Justin’s chest. “I can’t even believed you kept this shit from me. If he’s stepping out on you, I’m going to personally cut off both balls, deep fry them, and serve them to him for dinner.”

“That is hella creepy,” he said, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have threatened any different if the situation was reversed. He sighed, pushing a few croutons around his plate. “And I don’t know, man. He’s just been weird, and we haven’t had sex in a long time…”

Adam snorted into his tea. “Wait. You think he’s cheating because you two haven’t been fucking? Hasn’t his department been even busier than ours?”

That was what the assumption was. Justin just wasn’t entirely sure that was the case. He shrugged. “I guess. I’ve been too busy to check into it. It just…I don’t know man, it kind of feels like the end, here.”

“March and I went through that, you know. You remember.”

“Yeah, I still have your ass-prints on my sofa from that two weeks,” Justin reminded him with a tiny grin.

“So what did I do? I showed up to her office and fucked her brains out, then proposed. It ended up working out.”

“You want me to go fuck his brains out in his office, then propose?” Justin pushed his plate away, and it was only another moment before their lasagne was sitting in front of them. He pushed his fork into the crust of cheese. “I don’t think he’s really the fuck and marry type.”

“So suck his brains out through his dick and buy him a nice watch,” Adam said with a shrug. “Or like…I don’t know, man. What do dudes do for other dudes in place of all that sappy flowers and wine proposal shit.”

“I’m pretty sure Jack bought out an entire florist when he proposed to Bits,” Justin reminded him dryly.

“Yeah, but it’s Bits,” Adam replied.

Justin tried not to bristle at the reminder of just how fucking hetero Adam could be sometimes. But that wasn’t really the issue here. “I don’t think I want to marry the guy.”

“You love him though, right?” Adam pressed.

Justin chewed on his pasta and considered the entire situation. He…cared about him. I mean, he was tired, and things felt like shit, and he did kind of think Mitch was sleeping around. But he also liked the guy. He was funny, and they had the same love of 1960s retro TV dramas, and shitty, badly written gay romance books where guys blacked out from getting their ass rammed, and orgasmed thick ropes of come. And Mitch was comfortable, and that could be love too, right? Maybe not riding off into the sunset love, but Justin was pretty fucking sure that didn’t exist in the first place.

“I do,” he said, even if it still kind of sounded like a lie.

“So go to his office and eat his ass til he cries, then force him to schedule some vacation time with you. Seriously dude, Bahamas, Hawaii…” Adam missed the way that made Justin flinch. “Shit, go to Paris. Go make out under the Eiffel tower and eat your weight in cheese until your lactose intolerance nearly kills you. Come back with a bunch of crappy tourist gifts and just…reset.”

It…was an idea, and Justin was pretty sure something had to give. Maybe he could be the one to take the leap. Maybe Mitch was just waiting for Justin to show that he was still invested in all this. It made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world, actually. Realising how badly he’d dropped the ball on this whole thing. He was waiting for things to just be better instead of putting in the work.

Fuck.

“I’ll see him after this,” Justin said, and Adam sat back, looking so pleased with himself, Justin kind of wanted to punch him in the face.

He didn’t. They just finished up their meal, and Adam decided to head home since most of the office was done for the night. At the edge of the building, Justin looked up and he saw the faint glow of Mitch’s office light still on. It wasn’t a guarantee he was there, but it was a flicker of hope.

As he rose up to Mitch’s floor, he felt momentary panicked—sort of naked, in a way. Like maybe he should have had flowers or a ring or even a fucking condom in his pocket. Instead he stepped out onto the floor with empty hands and a half idea cooking in his brain of how he was going to tell his boyfriend that he wanted to be better, do better by him, and the worst part was he wasn’t even sure he meant it.

Shit.

But he was doing it anyway, because he owed Mitch to at least try to figure them out, and himself, and everything else.

Maybe it was poetic, in the end, when he opened Mitch’s office door and found him fucking Marie from legal. Maybe that was irony. He’d never really gotten the hang of that word. Later, Adam would probably tell him that Mitch _wanted_ to get caught, because no one who wants to keep this shit secret doesn’t fuck in their office—and if they do, they lock the damn door.

It was almost comedic in a way, how Justin kind of just stared and said something along the lines of, “Should I wait for you to finish up or…”

And the way Mitch kind of flung Marie off to the side and babbled something like, “Wait, hang on, Justin!” as he turned heel and walked back toward the lifts.

He was totally alone by the time he got to the parking garage. His car was one of four left on his floor, and the soft chirping sound of the doors unlocking was way too loud. His hands were shaking, but he felt a strange sense of calm, and by the time he got back to his place, an almost sense of purpose.

Or at least, he did when he started throwing clothes into his suitcase and accepting the realisation that there was no fucking way he could spend another second in this apartment he shared with someone who was just as done with this whole thing, and either just as lazy or just as much of a coward as Justin was that he’d rather just fuck his way through the other departments than end it.

Then again, Justin was considering a marriage proposal, or at least a fantastic rim job in order to fix their problems, and he wasn’t entirely sure which one was worse. Whatever the case was, it felt almost like a visceral relief to get behind the wheel of his car and just drive. He didn’t know where the fuck he was going, but as the lights of Boston in his rear view mirror began to fade, he finally felt like he could breathe again.

And he hadn’t realised just how damn long he’d been gasping for air.

*** 

**Welcome To Providence  
Population 6,436**

It gave new meaning to one-horse town, something Justin didn’t quite understand until he’d driven past a long field with exactly one horse grazing in a partially ploughed field with tufts of dead grass and a huge, steaming trough of water to drink from.

It seemed like the motorway cut right through whatever this place was. At the first stoplight there was a Cumberland’s on the left, and an Ace on the right, and then the road went on and on again for what felt like forever, but couldn’t possibly be considering it was Rhode Island and he was pretty sure forty minutes on the road would have him in another damn state.

He took the second left then, which led to a tiny Motel 7—the strangest little knock-off roadside hovel he’d ever seen. It was almost straight out of a movie, the place attached to some shithole diner with a stretch of tarmac long enough to accommodate the massive shipment trucks parked.

It seemed a good a place as any to stop, and he stepped out, grimacing at the biting cold, and the strange, sort of petrol smell in the air from where all the trucks were filling up. The motel didn’t have a lobby, just one of those glass windows with a huge corkboard behind the chair covered in old school, gold keys attached to huge plastic numbers. It was the sort of place people came for a fuck, not for a long stay, and he was pretty sure his bank was going to be calling him about credit card fraud in a week after he handed his plastic over.

But he needed to stop. He needed a long piss and a hot, greasy meal, and ten minutes to stop and tink about what the fuck he’d just done because right now he was expected at a huge meeting and not showing up, not calling, was going to get him sacked pretty fucking quickly, and Adam was probably going to have some worry-stroke over where the hell he’d gone.

And there was no telling what Mitch had told everyone at the office.

He didn’t want it to matter. He wanted to pull one of those Oprah Book of the Month stories where he takes off and leaves his life behind to find his happiness in some foreign sunset. Which…maybe not in this little shithole town, but it’s a start.

All the same, he feels the crushing threat of panic just behind his ribs and he knows he can only stave off the anxiety for so long. Food will help, and sleep. Not that, crashing hard on the side of the road in his car sort of sleep he’d just done for a few hours, but a bed. Even if it means bedbug bites and having to burn all his clothes to purge them.

It took almost ten minutes of standing there and occasionally ringing the ‘help’ bell before some kid who looks barely fifteen, and stoned out of his mind, shows up to take his card and give him the key to his room. It’s up a set of rickety stairs, and he figured that getting a good meal in before attempting to risk his life to climb the stairs was probably a good idea.

So he crossed over the long stretch of tarmac and walks into the diner which might as well be a Waffle House for how literally exactly the same it was. He’d be more bitter about it if they didn’t have the homefries he was craving, but they did, with tobacco and ketchup, and a nasty cup of thick, bitter coffee.

Things could be worse.

His phone started to buzz in his pocket right around seven, so he turned it off, filled his stomach, then trudged back over to the stale-smelling hotel and curled up in the middle of the bed. Freedom started to feel a lot like loneliness and panic after a little while, so he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to sleep.

*** 

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Justin looked up from the menu with bleary, dry eyes, and was momentarily comforted by the smile on his server’s face. The diner’s food had sat okay with him the night before, so he felt safe enough to go back before venturing out and figuring out what the hell his plan was for the next…however long he was going to ride this midlife crisis.

“Two egg breakfast,” he said. “And more coffee?”

“You got it.”

She ambled off, and he heard her calling the order to the kitchen who was probably half asleep since Justin and one other guy who looked like he was either coming off a long stretch of driving on the road, or a really vicious bender, were the only customers.

He sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to turn on his phone and make a few phone calls, because there was probably only a few more hours left before Adam reported him missing. He’d have to deal with at least some of it soon, but it felt good to be off the grid, and kind of anonymous, and in the middle of nowhere.

He was halfway between home and Pittsburgh, which meant he could probably crash with Jack and Bits if he really wanted to, though he was definitely feeling a little too old to couch surf with old college buddies anymore. What he really needed was to walk off all the tension, and come up with an actual plan.

His thoughts were interrupted by a plate sliding in front of him, and he absently reached for the salt as he asked, “Is there any actual town to Providence?”

The server laughed, laying one hand with chipped polished nails on the table. “There’s something like it. K through twelve school up the road, a couple of neighbourhoods. There’s a skating rink and…”

“Ice or roller?”

“Both, actually,” she said, shrugging as she leant over to refill his coffee. “They cover it when they do roller derby, but other than that, it’s ice. The guy who owns it is in the mafia.”

Justin stared at her with raised brows. “Uh. What.” It wasn’t really a question, the way it came out.

“He’s Russian,” she said, like that explained everything. “He’s got a limp and his English is really bad, and he just kind of breezed in here with a wad of cash and bought the place. Two months later the rink opened up and there’s no way he makes enough money to keep the place afloat so you know…money laundering.”

Justin was pretty damn sure that the guy being Russian and having enough capital to start a skating rink meant the guy was ex hockey, not mafia, but he knew the way small towns liked to talk, so he just nodded and went back to his food. He left a wad of cash to cover the breakfast and a nice tip before slipping out, and he found himself walking to his car instead of to the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated this to four chapters cos I realised I was going to need that extra bit to finish up. Expect another update tomorrow! x
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Ransom has an anxiety attack in his car. Not described in detail, but take caution if you need.

The Starbucks was a surprise, and the smoothie bar in the little, tan-painted mini-mall with an accountant, pawn shop, accident lawyer, and pilates studio tucked off a side-road. There was a supermarket down the street—Justin hadn’t made it that far, but he could see the faded, red and white sign hovering in the distance.

He’d seen towns like this before—driven through more than he could count on his many road trips to Toronto when he and Adam were still Rans and Holtzy. They’d all stayed in shitty motels when they were on the hockey bus at Samwell, the sight of the glowing sign on the side of the road bringing them a thrill of team bonding, and anticipation of ice under their feet, a hockey stick in their hands, and another tick in the column of won games.

Or lost.

It hadn’t ever really mattered to him as much as it had to Jack—who had everything in the world to prove. Or to Bitty, who had everything personal to prove. But it had been something—the team was family, and the haus had been the glue that held them together. And for all the promises they’d all made themselves after graduating that nothing would change, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find himself here.

Sat in his car, holding a frapuccino, staring at the dead screen of his phone and debating whether or not he had the strength to turn it on.

For now, he decided no, because he didn’t have the answers to the questions Adam and his bosses were going to ask.

_“When are you coming home?”_

_“Are you quitting?”_

_“Is everything okay?”_

_“What were you thinking?”_

I don’t know. I don’t know. _I don’t know_.

He threw his phone onto the passenger seat, put the car into drive, and pulled out onto a side street. His eyes were hot with the tears he refused to cry, because whatever he was feeling, most of it was his own fault and he refused to wallow, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for.

He drove down a neighbourhood street, the homes a little run-down, yards unkempt. There were more for sale and for let signs than there were occupied homes, and a piece of his brain knew that the cost of real estate here was probably only a fraction of what he paid for his brownstone. He probably had enough space on one of his credit cards if he really wanted.

But god, why was he thinking about that? He wasn’t going to move here. He didn’t know what the plan was, but it wasn’t uprooting to this little po-dunk, piece of shit blip on a map just because his boyfriend was a dick who was cheating, and his job sucked.

It took him a moment to realise the tightness in his chest. He didn’t fully acknowledge it until he reached for his indicator and realised his fingers were trembling. He took a corner sharply, then pulled into a massive, empty car park not far off, and switched off the engine just before he gave in to the swirling, suffocating panic.

He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel hard enough to hurt, the pain distracting, grounding. The frozen coffee was cold in his hand, making the pads of his fingers feel stiff and fake. He breathed in, counted, breathed out.

Breathed in. Counted. Breathed out.

He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed, but when he looked up, everything seemed the same as it had been. The sun hadn’t changed positions in the sky, no one had driven past. He grabbed his key-fob, and stepped out of the car. The ground under his feet felt more stable than he did in his own body, and he found himself walking toward the building.

It was the biggest he’d seen in a while, and as he approached, he caught a glimpse of a few cars round the side, parked close to a side door. There was no sign on the front, but in faded, white letters on the glass door it read, **Mashkov’s**.

It took him less than a second to realise it was the ice skating rink.

Justin hadn’t been anywhere near ice in…well, he couldn’t remember how long. Years, he was pretty sure. Jack had invited him and Holster down for some College Reunion thing to play shinny with the Pens and do some PR stuff. He’d been stressed about a huge contract he was working on, and he’d managed to have _some_ fun, but it hadn’t felt the same.

There was a moment, he remembered, of watching Shitty chirping Jack, and Nursey with his hands fisted in the back of C’s hoodie, and Bitty sat on the wall next to Malkin talking social media, or pie, or Beyonce, or something, and he realised for all that everyone was smiling, and laughing, there was a disconnect. They hadn’t lived up to their promises. They’d lost those thin, fragile threads holding them together as family, and at best they were…acquaintances.

If he’d been aware more, it would have hurt more. But his head was elsewhere, so he’d just let the threads snap and slip away. The next time there had been an invite for something—their reunion or something—he’d just ignored the email.

And that was that.

His hand was shaking now, as he held the door. The hours were posted under the name, and it was open, though public skate didn’t start until four that afternoon. He went in anyway, and was immediately hit with that sort of sharp, cold, aroma and feel of being in an enclosed space with ice. It made him shiver, triggered memories he rarely thought about.

He swallowed it all back, walking in further. There was no check in desk, but near the rink was a long, carpet-covered counter and behind that rows and rows of rental skates. To his right was an elevated platform covered in plastic picnic benches, and a glass-countered island with bright coloured sweets, and a glowing menu with prices for nachos, pizza, and hot chocolate that looked like it had come straight out of an 80s flick.

It wasn’t until he heard the faint sounds of the Little Mermaid soundtrack that he snapped out of his head, and he walked over toward the edge of the rink. There were bleachers along the far-side, where a gaggle of moms sat, chatting or playing on their phones. At centre ice were half a dozen small children who didn’t look more than four or five years old. Most of them were little girls, with their hair all tied up in intricate ponytails and braids, and they had on tights and tutus and stark white skates.

The person instructing them was a tall man—taller than himself by a few inches at least. He was broad, his face full of sharp angles, hair a deep brown set in light waves around his face. His smile was bright, and sweet, something Justin could see from even this far off. He was speaking in low tones, but even though Justin couldn’t make out the words, he could hear the lilt of his accent—thick and rounded over the sounds of Sebastian the Crab praising a life in the ocean.

Justin hesitated, then started to walk, exploring the small area, only half paying attention to a make-shift conga-line the man had going. By the time Justin got close to the exit doors to the rink, the song had ended, and the little kids were all attempting to tackle the tall man to the ice.

He was laughing, booming and absurdly happy as the kids giggled and attacked. Eventually the moms started calling to them, and he certainly didn’t miss the suspicious, careful looks he was getting—whether it was because he was a stranger, or a very tall, very broad black man. Or both, more than likely. He was no stranger to those looks, especially from middle-age, middle-class white women.

He ignore it. It was easy enough to do after this long, and he turned toward the rink where the teacher was straightening his sweater. His eyes were fixed on Justin, and his mouth was still curved slightly in a half friendly, mostly curious smile. His skates—black figure skates—were a stark contrast to the pale ice, and they moved with precision and grace as he slid up toward the wall.

“You’re new.”

Justin almost laughed, but instead offered a polite smile and reached a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He was new. And the guy was going to ask him how he could help, and Justin didn’t even really know why the fuck he was here apart from the whole, I had a vicious anxiety attack in your car park and I needed to step out to keep from falling apart. Not something he wanted to say to a total stranger.

“I’m Justin,” is what he said instead of any of that.

The man stuck out his hand. “Alexei Mashkov. I’m own this place.”

“Uh yeah. I saw your name on the door. Uhh,” he hesitated again. “A woman from the diner said you opened it a few months ago?”

Alexei nodded as he drew his hand away—his palm surprisingly soft and warm. “Seemed like good place, you know? Nice little town, but not having ice skating. Good for kids to learn.”

“You got hockey here?” It was an automatic question.

Something in Alexei’s face shifted—his expression just this side of cool, and Justin knew a sore spot when he saw one. “Not yet. No one show interest, which is okay. I’m like this better, these kids.”

Justin nodded, though he didn’t really get it. He’d never exactly been a kid kind of guy. The idea of family had always been abstract—his own family huge, and he wasn’t a stranger to babies but the idea of being responsible for one was always kind of laughable. He was the one kid his parents never bothered about bringing home grandbabies. “They looked like they were having fun.” It was a lame as fuck response, but it made Alexei smile.

“Is something you needing?” Alexei asked. “We have public skate at four. You…can skate? Need lessons? I’m have private slots, thirty dollars for one hour…”

“Uh, no. No I don’t…I’m good. Thanks. I guess I was just kind of checking it out. Looking around for…” His words trailed off, his eyes flickering round nervously and settled on a small, computer printed sign in comic sans that read, **Help Wanted, See Alexei for details.** “A job,” he blurted, then his eyes widened at what he’d just said, though he didn’t take it back.

“Job,” Alexei repeated. He looked Justin up and down. “Is…not good job. Just doing some cleaning, you know? Not a lot of hours.”

Justin opened his mouth to reply, but it was at that moment all the kids started walking by with their little skates hanging over their shoulders, and their moms hovering close by, giving him narrowed eyes. He sighed and stepped aside so the kids could all give Alexei a high five, and a promise to see him next week.

It was quiet between them until the kids were gone, then Alexei said, “Coffee.”

Justin blinked at him, then looked down at the mess that once was a frapuccino in his hand. “Er.”

“I’m make fresh pot. Good stuff, mama—she sent from Russia. Come on.”

Alexei stepped off the rink and produced two blade covers from his pocket, then walked with practised ease to a door which led right into a cramped office. It was colder in there, but Alexei flicked on a little space heater before settling into his chair and reaching down to pull off his skates.

Justin hovered for a minute, then took a well-used chair, a far cry from anything he’d sat on in a long while. The office itself was cramped, but didn’t feel claustrophobic. There were files everywhere, and bookshelves covered in succulents and picture frames of people Justin assumed were Alexei’s family.

There were a few certifications on the wall, but they were all in Cyrillic so he had no idea what they said, but Justin assumed that they were prestigious considering one of the frames contained a silver Olympic medal behind the thick glass.

He turned back to Alexei, wondering how the hell someone with an Olympic medal could be sitting in this town of less than ten thousand, in a warehouse-made ice skating rink, teaching a bunch of over-privileged white kids how to do twirls on the ice. I mean, a job was a job, but the intrigue was almost overwhelming.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a coffee machine in the corner start to brew, and Alexei pulled out two mugs, one plain white, the other in a grotesque shape of Santa with a chipped nose. He stared down at it, then laughed. “Old neighbour in New York, he give this to me. He’s saying Santa for everyone.” After a pause, Alexei shrugged. “I’m Jewish, never having Santa. But old guy, he’s funny.”

Justin found himself smiling in spite of the bizarre situation, and he accepted the Santa mug full of fragrant, dark black coffee. Alexei rustled under his desk, then came up with a small jug of milk, and a handful of sugar packets.

“Is not best office, but works,” he said, and shrugged.

Justin helped himself to the sugar, skipping the milk, then took a sip. It wasn’t much different from shit he found in pretentious Boston cafés, but it was a lot better than the over-sugared frapuccino which was now in the final stages of melting on the corner of Alexei’s desk.

He sat back, still wondering why he was here, wondering why he hadn’t just told the damn truth because he wasn’t…he wasn’t staying here. He wasn’t going to get a _job_. He was on some soul-searching road trip trying to keep it together. He wasn’t starting over.

“So…is not best job, paying fifteen an hour. Just twenty hours per week, all I can do.” Alexei shrugged. “You…new here, yes? To Providence?”

Ransom licked his lips, then nodded. “Uh. Just got in. Still trying to find a place.”

Alexei nodded. “Is small here, different. Not too far from the ocean, but not like other places, big cities.” He hummed, curling his hands around his mug, and he sniffed the coffee, but didn’t take a drink. “People here…excited by strangers, but not trusting. Not like family. Can be little bit lonely.”

“Yeah well, big cities aren’t really better,” Justin retorted softly.

Alexei’s smile was soft and understanding. “Yes. Yes, is very much same. Can be so lonely, even with many people. Maybe you be happy here, we can see. You start tomorrow? Come in the morning, I’m show you all the tricks.”

Justin opened his mouth to tell him no, this was all some misunderstanding. He had a high-paying job, an expensive home, a good life. Well…a life, anyway. One he’d built on his own. He wasn’t just going to abandon it because he was having some dumbass, midlife, relationship crisis.

“Yeah, okay.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he wanted to smack himself. But he didn’t. He didn’t take it back. He just reached into his wallet and handed over his ID and filled out the forms Alexei had printed off from googling the IRS.

It was surreal, walking out on a slight caffeine high and the knowledge he’d somehow abandoned everything he knew for a place in the middle of nowhere, for a minimum wage job and a shitty hotel room bed. What the fuck was he thinking? And why.

*** 

“I’m fine. Really…”

“That’s exactly what you would say if someone had you against your will. Tell me where you are. We need a code. If you’re still in the state, say…banana!”

“If I was kidnapped, how could I possibly make the word banana sound like a normal piece of the conversation, Adam?” Justin demanded, exasperated and tired.

“You said it! Shit. Okay. Let me think, let me think…”

“I’m not fucking…I haven’t been kidnapped, Adam. I just…fuck. I just had to get away, alright?”

There was a long, long pause, then tension in Adam’s voice when he asked, “What the hell happened, man?”

“Nothing. Everything,” Justin said, laying back against the shitty bed. He needed to get a new place fast. Or…go home. Or…fuck, he didn’t know. “I went up to Mitch’s office like we talked about, and he was fucking someone.”

“Oh shit,” Adam whispered.

“Yeah, someone from legal. It was just…shit. It just kind of…” He dragged a hand down his face, groaning. “I’m miserable, okay? I hate working there, I hate my stupid house, I hate everything. This isn’t what I wanted!”

He heard Adam swallow thickly. “What are you saying, dude?”

“I’m saying that finding Mitch balls deep in some woman from legal was kind of the least of my worries. I’m saying that seeing it just kind of kick-started something and I had to get away. So I did.”

“Because your solution to being unhappy with your job and your boyfriend is to pack a bag and disappear on everyone who cares about you?” Adam bit out. “Fuck dude, I thought you got over all this panic shit when you graduated.”

Justin’s hand went tight on his phone, his knuckles aching from the grip. “Graduating didn’t cure me of anxiety,” he said, trying to measure his voice. “Just because I wasn’t curled up under a table during finals week didn’t mean I got better. And I’m not…this isn’t panic, you _dick_. I just needed some fucking space, and I don’t owe you anything. This phone call was a courtesy.”

“Right. A courtesy. The person who’s been with you for the last almost fifteen years gets a _courtesy_ call…”

Justin breathed in, breathed out, calmed himself. “We’re not a couple. We’re not dating. You’re fucking married, with kids, bro. We stopped being Rans and Holtzy years ago and just because we eat shitty pasta three times a week and hop on COD for a few hours every Sunday doesn’t make us…what we were. And maybe if you’d paid more than courtesy attention to what was actually happening with me, you might have noticed I was…miserable.”

“Forgive me for having a life, Justin,” Adam said, obviously furious now. “Forgive me for not being able to read your fucking mind. Just…whatever, dude. Have a nice road trip or whatever. I hope it’s all worth it. Oh and by the way, Williams says you’re fired so your shit will be waiting for you at security.”

The line went dead, the absence of noise ringing in his ear, and Justin let the phone drop from his fingers to the mattress. He pressed both palms over his face, pushing down hard, trying to will away the ache in his chest. Talking to Adam had gone exactly as he’d expected. Like shit. As shitty as everything had gone over the last few years.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew damn well running off into the hills of fucking nowhere and leaving everything to rot in Boston was not a healthy way of dealing with his misery. He needed…he needed meds, probably, and a few long sessions with a therapist. He should have quit his job like a goddamn grown up, and made a plan, and…maybe punched Mitch in the face for being a piece of shit. Like any normal person in the middle of a normal break up.

But here he was.

And it wasn’t like he couldn’t turn around now. He could go back. He had other friends besides Adam, and he owed his house, and his savings account would float him for a damn long time. He’d invested, anyway. He owned rental properties, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t destitute. He didn’t need this shitty minimum wage job cleaning toilets at some half-assed skating rink.

Then a still, quiet voice in the back of his head said, _How the hell would you know what you need right now? You haven’t known in years._

He squeezed his hands into fists, then pushed himself up to sit. His feet planted on the floor, he decided it was time to make a decision. Shit or get off the pot, Justin. What more do you have to lose?

*** 

“…and the rent is sixteen hundred a month, which covers your electricity and water. It’s due on the third, and we’ll need proof of employment and…”

Justin turned her out as he stared round the small, furnished apartment. It wasn’t the ugliest place he’d ever been—the most luxurious Providence had to offer really, with a gym and a pool which opened in the spring. It was smaller than he had at home, and it was impersonal. The feeling of loneliness crept out of the brightly painted corners, and the granite-countered kitchen.

But he’d made his choice, however long it lasted. Sitting in the leasing office, signing away six months of his life, paying his rent in advance so he didn’t have to think about it. He could see the questions in her eyes—why a man like him would be in this place, would be choosing this, when he could afford so much better. But she didn’t ask, and he was grateful for it.

He had keys in hand by the end of the day, and his arms were full of groceries which he unloaded into the new kitchen, full of things that weren’t his. He curled up on the couch that night, under a stale-smelling duvet, with the TV on low in the background, his phone—still off-clutched tightly in his hand.

*** 

“I’m always ask why that coffee,” Alexei said as Justin strolled in the next morning. His nose was wrinkled at the soy-mocha in Justin’s hand. “Is so bad.”

Justin shrugged. “Just one of those days you really need burnt espresso and two cups of sugar.” He took a swig and fought back a grimace, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Anyway, I’m here. As promised.”

Alexei gave him a careful look, like maybe he wanted to ask a question, then he shook his head and dropped his large hand on Justin’s shoulder. “Come on. I’m show you what you need to do. How you are with…baking?”

Justin had once predicted that his impromptu baking lessons with Bits in the haus would come in handy. He sort of figured he’d tap into them come some holiday with family, or trying to impress a significant other. He hadn’t imagined that he’d be using his chocolate chip cookie skills in a small, crappy little skating rink hovel with a convection oven because the owner, and his new boss, thought it would be enticing for the customers during free skate to smell and then want to buy fresh baked cookies.

“You can skate?” Alexei asked as Justin used an ice cream scoop to spoon out the dough onto the baking tray.

Justin stiffened. “Uh. I can. But I don’t.”

Alexei chuckled softly. “You come into ice skating rink looking for job, and you not wanting to skate. Is just a little bit funny.”

Justin rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help a small grin as he shrugged. “Yeah well…I’ve been on ice enough to last me a lifetime. I mean…you don’t need it, do you?”

“Maybe run Zamboni sometimes, but skating…no. I’m handle lessons okay. Don’t worry.” Alexei lowered himself onto a stool, and grimaced as he rubbed at his knee. “Taking me long time to want to skate again after surgery. Is…hard to go back sometimes.”

Justin licked his lips, nodding, wanting to know more, but knowing he was in no position to ask. “Well, the kids are pretty lucky you decided to get back out there. They seem to really like you.”

Alexei laughed. “Always good with kids. My mama, she have me teaching little ones at home when I’m having time. She calling me…” He used a Russian word Justin had no hope of understanding. “Soothe baby?”

“Baby whisperer?” Justin offered.

Alexei nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yes. Like that. Little ones, much easier to understand. Not so…complicated.”

Before Justin could say anything else, the doors opened, and a few laughing kids hurried in. As Alexei sighed and stood up, Justin turned toward him. “I’ll get these going, then get the bathrooms done, eh? You want me to do skate blades?”

“You knowing how?” Alexei asked with narrowed eyes.

“I did uh…I learnt how. In college,” Justin said.

Alexei stared, then gave a firm nod. “Okay, yes. Then we taking lunch after.”

Justin turned away, getting back to work tidying up the food prep area as he waited for the cookies to finish. They didn’t take long, and by the time they were cooling, he set off to the bathrooms. It wasn’t pleasant work, shirt sleeves rolled, hands covered in rubber gloves as he used a couple of harsh sponges to scrub at the worst stains. It wasn’t a bar toilet, but kids were just about as good with aiming as drunk business guys after their fifth round.

Still, the work was oddly soothing. Dipping his mop into the bucket, squeezing out water, pushing it across the tiled floors. The repetitive, mindless motions—not having to wrack his brain, to think on his toes, to be at his most clever at every damn second—it was the most relaxed he’d felt in years, even if it was also the most physical work he’d done in years.

His arms were aching by the time he was done, but it was a good kind of ache. It was the kind of ache from Samwell when he and Holster would leave their extra practise at Faber, and head down to Annie’s for a coffee and to see how many numbers they could score before walking back to the haus full of weed smoke and pie filling.

He missed it. Not the, I peaked in college kind of ache, but in a deeper way. He missed the optimism, and the future ahead of himself, and the lofty goals he’d set. His life had been like a fantasy novel just waiting to be written, with his happy ending near the last page.

Now he was here, covered in toilet water and sweat, and living in some apartment while his house back home got musty and stale, and his phone was off because he couldn’t bear the sound of his best friend’s voice, and the guilt that came with it.

Or the anger and resentment.

“Jay!”

Justin turned, surprised by the nickname, and he found himself staring at Alexei who was dressed in running bottoms and a tight black Henley with two paper bags in his hands.

“I’m get some lunch. We eating in my office, then we talk tonight, yes?”

Justin shrugged, then set the mop handle against the wall and moved to wash his hands before walking to Alexei’s office. When he got in, Alexei had cleared off a portion of his desk, and laid out two burgers and some curly fries from whatever the local joint was down the street.

Justin eased down into the chair he’d interviewed in, and picked up the little box of curly fries as Alexei produced two bottles of water from the little mini fridge under his desk.

“So, you wanting to run home yet?” Alexei asked with a small wink.

Justin couldn’t help a laugh. “Man, this was the quietest work place I’ve had in years. I’m uh…I mean maybe this isn’t going to be my career or anything, but I’m not ready to go back just yet.”

Alexei took a huge bite of his food, nodding. “Is good place,” he said, his mouth half-full. “You can make more money, you know. Do big things, be big guy in suit and tie. But is not like this. Work you feel with your hands. Is good for you, right here,” he pressed two fingers against his sternum, and for whatever reason, Justin knew exactly what he meant.

He tamped down on the urge to rub his palm against his own chest, just to feel the warmth there. “Yeah,” he said, very softly.

They ate in silence for a bit, then Alexei balled up the wrappings and dropped them in the bin as Justin drank down half his water. “Tonight, you can come back? For the open skate? Is not getting too busy in middle of the week, but we have regulars who come. Just needing someone to help with counter, while I do the skates. Then we clean, run Zamboni, go home.”

“Yeah, man. I can do that,” Justin said nodding. “Not like…all seven days, right?”

Alexei grinned. “No, no. Never working Friday nights, or Saturdays. For Shabbat. If you wanting Sundays, is okay too. I can…”

“Oh uh. Yeah, no. I’m not…Fridays and Saturdays are totally cool with me.”

Alexei’s smile softened. “Also, you finding place? I’m have extra room—not too big, mama, she sleep there when she coming to visit but is free now.”

“Nah, I got a place yesterday. Apartments up on Elm? They let me move in last night.”

“Okay but if you feeling lonely, you coming to mine,” Alexei insisted. “Not good to be alone, not good to just be having work. I’m not best cook, but I’m try. Have good, homecooked meal.”

Justin felt his face heat up a little at the attention he was getting, and there was a funny sort of spark in his belly which he was more than happy to ignore because right now, this was so much. But he smiled all the same, because Alexei was probably one of the nicest, most genuine people he’d ever met in his life. And he seriously needed that.

“Thanks. I’ll…yeah. I’ll take you up on that sometime.”

“Okay,” Alexei said with a big grin, then slapped his hand on the desk. “Now we get back to working. Clean ice, sharpen skates. You and me, we’re team now.” He extended his hand, and Justin took it, laughing a little when he was dragged into a hug instead of a handshake. It was strange, and it was, frankly, really, really wonderful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Alexei, I can’t come in, I think I have the flu. Sorry for texting last minute.**

_Is okay, get better soon ))))_

*** 

Justin groaned, flipping the pillow then shoving his face into it, hoping to leech off some of the brief cold before his fever made it feel like it came fresh out of the dryer. Everything on his body ached, and the meds he’d managed to stumble down to the CVS for were only taking the edge off.

He considered a trip down to urgent care, but he wasn’t a stranger to the plague taking him down for a few days. He’d suffered way worse in college. Like when strep hit the haus, or the one fateful Spring C where Shitty brought home Mono, then proceeded to spread it round like he was giving out pot gummy bears.

Still, back then he had the haus. He had his friends, and Bitty’s soup, and Nursey’s amazing foot massages, or Lardo’s homemade, eucalyptus bath bombs which seemed to cure every single ounce of pressure in his sinuses. Things had been chaotic, but he wasn’t alone. This was pressing, it was kind of overwhelming.

Pulling the blankets tighter round his shoulders, Justin tried to sink into the sofa, become one with the sofa. If he was made of upholstery and cotton stuffing, he wouldn’t be sick like this. He was pretty sure he’d live a happy life being sat on by random people renting this place out.

When he heard the knocking at the door, he was half convinced it was a fever dream. He nearly didn’t get up, but it was persistent enough that he gave in, trudging over and flinging the door open. He blinked, his eyes blurry and dry, and unsure he was really seeing his boss there, stood a little awkward with his hands full of paper bags.

“I’m bring supplies,” Alexei said after a moment, and elbowed his way past Justin.

Justin stood there dumbly, but snapped back to his senses when his body began to shiver, and he closed the door, shuffling over to where Alexei was now unloading several plastic containers and a Styrofoam box of…well. He wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t smell anything thanks to his nose being stuffed up.

“What uh…what are you doing here? Dude, I’m sick as hell, you’re going to catch it. And what about the rink. Don’t you have…”

“No no, no,” Alexei said, waving his hand at Justin. “You go sit, put feet up. I’m take care of all this.”

Justin’s mouth opened to protest, but at Alexei’s firm stare, he cowed and turned, heading back to the sofa. What he wanted to do was lie down in his nest of blankets, and his sea of used tissue surrounding him. Instead he gathered up what he could of the gross tissues, and shoved them between the cushions. He curled into the corner then, his head flopping back against the back cushion, and he snapped to sometime later when the sofa dipped beside him.

“Here.” Alexei shoved a mug at Justin, who took it and peered dubiously into some type of yellowish broth, thick with veg. “Is mama’s recipe. Cure everything.”

Justin snorted. “Sure,” he said, but he took a sip anyway. He couldn’t taste shit, but the warmth was a soothing balm on his throat, and his stomach cheered at being able to ingest something that wasn’t menthol cough drops or weak tea.

“I’m bring more. Is in the fridge for you, quick to heat. Also bring something spicy for later, help with the nose.” Alexei tapped his finger along his large nose, then grinned.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this, because I do,” Justin said, “but who is watching the rink?”

“No one. I’m close for the day. Four parents cancel, kids all sick.”

Justin wrinkled his nose and sighed, knowing exactly where he’d picked this up. He hadn’t worked with the public in so long, he forgot what it was like to be at risk like this. The worst he ever had it was when Adam’s kids had passed around some stomach bug that had him hunched over his toilet for two days. But he’d learnt his lesson then, and any hint of a sniffle and he’d board himself up in the house and only come out when Adam swore on his Gretzky-signed puck that they were better.

He probably should have prepared better, but he hadn’t really thought about it. He squeezed his eyes shut as he gulped down the soup, and when the mug was mostly empty, Alexei plucked it from his hands, then pushed himself up to stand.

“So,” Justin started, preparing his goodbye since obviously his boss didn’t need to hang around. But instead of heading for the door, Alexei just wandered into the master bedroom. The words died on Justin’s lips, and he blinked in surprise when Alexei came out a minute later with two more pillows from his bed, and an extra blanket.

“Lay down,” he ordered.

Startled by this whole thing, Justin obeyed, and found Alexei settling the pillows under him, fluffing them until he was reclined. He draped the second blanket over his feet, then laid the back of his hand over Justin’s forehead and hummed.

“Warm,” he declared.

Justin sneezed twice, hurrying to cover it with the crook of his elbow. “Sorry. Shit.”

Alexei waved him off. “Russian stamina, so good, is fine. You sleep.”

“But I…”

“Sleep,” Alexei ordered. He settled himself in the chair nearby, then reached down and Justin swore the man conjured the damn book he had in his hands, right out of thin air. 

He wanted to argue, to ask what the hell Alexei was doing, or why he’d bother. Justin was a janitor who occasionally worked the food counter, who showed up in this tiny town out of nowhere with an obvious chip on his shoulder, and a past he refused to talk about. He hadn’t earnt this sort of care and attention. Hell, he hadn’t had it in years, not since he and the team were basically living in each other’s back pockets, and taking care of each other was really an act of self-preservation.

His brain was too tired to really think of an argument, and his body ached too much for him to get up and make Alexei leave. And truthfully—he wasn’t sure he wanted that. It was a strange, lulling sort of comfort to know someone was there, that when he woke from his fever-haze, he wasn’t going to be alone.

The thought was warm enough, soft enough, to ease him to sleep.

*** 

“Trust me, I’m know how to get better. First you eat soup, then you eat spicy Thai.” Alexei shoved a huge bowl of gaeng keow wan gai into his hands, and Justin just barely managed to keep it from tipping into his lap. “Green curry, is very good. You trust me, yes?”

“Uh,” Justin said, and shrugged because he hadn’t really thought about it before. But it had been hours, and Justin was at his most disgusting, and Alexei was still here—trying to feed him, to get him better. He dug his spoon into the curry and took a bite. The heat took a moment to settle in, but it wasn’t long before he felt the burn deep in his chest, and right in his sinuses. His nose started to run, and he swiped his hand under it, not really caring anymore how gross he was.

“See, working already,” Alexei said happily, and dug into his pad thai.

Justin managed a few more bites, and he felt a sort of strange sensation curling in his chest. The food didn’t taste commercial, the way a lot of places did. It tasted like it came from someone’s kitchen, the way his own mother’s cooking had been. He wasn’t a stranger to spicy, his mother loved cooking with heat, as much as his dad would complain about how it was going to burn a hole through their stomachs. Justin had loved eating with her—he was the only one who could ever keep up, and it was something they shared.

“Eyes watering. You sad, Jay? Or is spicy?”

“Oh uh…” Justin swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t know.”

Alexei hummed, watching him carefully. “Is okay, you not telling me. I’m understand more than most. What is like to run away.”

“I didn’t,” Justin started, defensive and tense, but he stopped himself. He didn’t want to lie to Alexei, and running was exactly what he’d done. He’d gotten in his car, he left everything behind, and he’d spoken to Adam once before turning off his phone and refusing to face reality. Alexei at least deserved some of the truth. “I’m…” There was a moment of hesitation, because telling the truth meant coming out.

“I come from Kazan. Maybe not biggest city, but is not so tiny. Mama, she move there when she meet my papa and she having us. But before that, she was skater. In Olympics.” Alexei leant forward and put his mostly empty plate down, then settled back with his arms crossed over his chest. If Justin didn’t know better, he’d think Alexei was nervous.

“You don’t have to…”

“No is…okay. Help you to understand, maybe? Feel safer?” He shrugged, then unclenched one of his arms to run a hand through his hair. “I learn with her. She having little school, teaching some kids, then she train me. I skate one Olympics, go to Beijing, win the silver. Then I’m come home, help mama with the school. Papa, he work, play hockey, proud man. Was good papa, but…I’m.” He stopped, then coughed a little bit. “Is not good to be some ways in Russia, you know? Dangerous sometimes, to be like me.”

“Like you,” Justin murmured, swirling his spoon round the curry absently.

“I like girls sometimes, boys sometimes. Is easier, liking girls, but then I’m meet Ilya. Good skater, brave, beautiful. We fall in love, thinking yes, is going to be okay. We can leave, be happy. But his family…not wanting him to go. Blame me, get angry. His brothers, they find me and…” He gestured absently to his knee. “Mama, she’s afraid for me, so she send me here. She and papa, they give money, they help me start school. Now they visit, we talk on computer, and maybe I’m fall in love again, maybe not. But is safer.”

Justin swallowed thickly, not really sure how to express his gratitude for what he knew Alexei had just done. So he fixed his gaze on his curry and took a breath. “After college, my best friend and I got jobs in Boston. It was uh…I mean, it was good. Both of my brothers and one of my sisters are doctors, and my parents—they wanted that. Like it was just kind of expected and I couldn’t…I couldn’t deal, you know? So Adam and I just did something else. And it was alright. He got married, had some kids, we had beers once a week, I go to all their birthday parties. He moved on and I was living with some fuck-stick who I caught sleeping around on me in his office.”

“So…you leave.”

“So I left,” Justin confirmed, finally looking up. He swallowed, then shrugged and set his bowl down. “I got in the car and I just started driving, and it felt like every second of repressed misery from the last ten years just kind of bashed me over the head. I ended up in that shitty Motel 7 by the freeway, and some woman at the diner told me about your place. I didn’t even mean to go there.” He laughed, just this side of hysterical. “Shit…I…I was having a panic attack in my car and I walked in to get some air and there you were all…” He waved his hand up and down Alexei’s body. “You were all good with the kids and friendly and you wanted to know why I was there, but not to be a dick. You were just curious.”

“You looking so lost,” Alexei said, his voice very soft.

Justin dragged a hand down his face. “I was. I saw the sign and I just…I don’t know. I found out I was fired from my job a few hours before that, and I guess I just…leapt.”

Alexei’s face softened into a smile. “Is good, you leaping. Means you leap right into my life. Am happy about that, Jay.”

Justin couldn’t help his laugh. “Yeah. It’s been good. Weird as _fuck_ , but good.”

*** 

Alexei left a few hours after making sure Justin had taken his next dose of Nyquil, and he came by the next day, just long enough to drop off another container of soup.

By Wednesday, Justin was feeling human again, so he trudged down to the rink and saw Alexei finishing up with his morning class. Justin knew the kids well enough now that they all gave him fist-bumps as they passed, though the moms still didn’t spare much of a glance at him, but he could live with that.

He had a smile on his face when Alexei skated up to the boards. “You still living!”

Justin rolled his eyes. “And you didn’t let the place run into the ground without me. Nice.”

Alexei laughed, then said, “Get pair of skates.”

“Uh. What.”

“Skates. We having plenty, some fit you. Come, I’m teaching you to skate.” His tone booked no argument, and Justin realised that for all he’d sort of word-vomited the night Alexei had come over, he’d failed to mention that he used to play hockey. And that he was still pretty fucking good at it. He had told Alexei once he could skate, but didn’t. “Come, you getting promotion.”

His first gut instinct was to say no, but there was something else warring with that. Something that was pushing him to walk to the skate counter, to pluck a pair in his size from the rack. They’d been freshly sharpened, and his hands were only shaking a little as he walked over to the bench near the entrance to the rink, and tied them on.

They didn’t feel familiar—he had only been in figure skates once or twice in his life, but somehow the anticipation of feeling the ice beneath his feet had him grinning. He gripped the wall as he stood, and saw Alexei gliding over, hand out, reaching for Justin.

“Just ease out, I’m not let you fall,” Alexei told him.

Justin almost laughed. Instead he stepped one foot onto the ice, then the other, and let the first push off the wall take him a few feet away. It was an adjustment with the toe-pick, but he was able to spin, and come to a stop as Alexei watched him.

“I actually can skate. I told you that before,” Justin reminded him.

“I thinking you telling a lie,” Alexei said. “Come here, tell me you want job, but won’t skate. Sounds like lie, Jay.”

Justin threw his head back, laughing, then quickly took off. It took him a moment to regain any of his former speed and grace, and the figure skates felt strange, but for all the trepidation and anxiety he’d had over getting on the ice again, he felt amazing.

He glanced back after a minute, and saw Alexei skating quickly after him. For his injury—even if Justin didn’t know the extent of it—he was far quicker than Justin thought he was going to be. Alexei caught up quickly, seizing Justin’s wrist, and took them into a spin which would have had Justin flat on his ass if it hadn’t been for Alexei’s strong arms.

“I thought you had a bum knee,” Justin wheezed.

Alexei laughed. “Not good for Olympics now, but can still skate, Jay. Better than you.”

Justin rolled his eyes, pushing his hands against Alexei’s chest. He almost choked when he felt the thick, strong muscle there, and he knew he should pull back, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Alexei didn’t pull back, either. He was still chuckling, his smile wide, his eyes bright, and he was pushing with his skates so Justin was going backward.

“Well, I’m not going to challenge you to anything anytime soon.”

“Mm, is probably good idea.” Alexei’s hand moved slowly—so slowly—to Justin’s waist. His large hand sat there, just above the waistline of his jeans, and before Justin could say anything, Alexei grabbed on and spun him. His feet moved in a series of complicated steps, things Justin had seen on TV when Bits had them all glued to the TV for figure skating competitions.

Justin was no stranger to it. When they got Bitty worked up enough, they could get him to perform—even in hockey skates, and the team had loved it. This was…this was like that now, only different. There was something warmer in his chest, nothing like the fond affection he held for his former teammate.

He let Alexei manoeuvre him across the ice, spin him when he needed to, holding him by the waist, by the hand as they skated in a large, arcing circle. His head was spinning faster than his body at points, and he found he didn’t want to let go. He wanted to dig his fingers in, and let himself fall in a way he hadn’t done in…well…he couldn’t remember how long. Maybe ever. Maybe he’d _never_ let himself feel like this before.

They finished with Alexei giving a small flourish, then he let Justin go and swiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Not bad,” he mused. “Maybe not winning any medals. Maybe…okay for little four year old class.”

“Oh fuck you,” Justin said, laughing. “I earnt at least the gold star of the eight year old class.”

Alexei grinned at him, then took him by the wrist and eased him toward the exit. “Come on, we having some tea, yes?”

Justin didn’t fight him as he stepped out of the rink and untied the skates. Alexei walked in his own, and Justin was close behind as they headed into the office, and Justin started the electric kettle while Alexei pulled his feet free.

“I haven’t done that in years,” Justin admitted as he sat down.

Alexei hummed in thought. “You skating a lot before?”

“I uh…” He gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “My best friend and I were co-captains of our University hockey team.”

Alexei’s eyes widened, and he splayed his hands flat on his desk, leaning forward. “Jay! You never telling me this! What university?”

“Samwell?” Justin offered. “It’s small but you know…pretty nice. Anyway yeah, we got voted in—tie vote, which hah. We were kind of inseparable back then. One of our teammates, Bittle, he used to figure skate before he started playing hockey. We’d fuck around on the ice a lot with him. I didn’t ever get to do anything like that, but he tried to teach this guy Chris how to throw and uh…”

Alexei grimaced. “Not smart man, that Bittle.”

“Actually, he’s kind of brilliant. His boyfriend’s Jack Zimmermann…”

“Oh yes, I’m know him. Good guy, good stats,” Alexei said as he rummaged round for two tea bags and plonked them into the mugs. The kettle flicked off after a minute, and he poured both full to the brim. “I’m see Pens play last year, for one game. They lost.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah. They won the cup his first year, and he and Bits came out, got married, all that shit. I was happy for them.”

Alexei nodded, but Justin could see he was understanding there was more that remained unsaid. 

“Maybe I could uh…I could call them, you know? Get some tickets. We could…go. If you wanted?”

“Yes, okay. Would be fun. Cheer for Malkin. Russian guy, best on the team.”

Justin rolled his eyes, but was still grinning. “Yeah I…that would be cool. I’ll pay for a room.”

Alexei gave him a small smile, maybe knowing—maybe not. Whatever it was, Justin was finally starting to feel right again. Not completely, but it was something.

*** 

Bracing himself, he reached across the bed and turned his phone right side up. He was unsurprised by the seven texts from Adam, and even the four from Bitty, and one from Jack. There were seven voicemails from Shitty, and a snap from Lardo that was probably just her flipping Justin off.

There was nothing from his parents, or his siblings, and it was that sort of dull ache that reminded him of course they didn’t know he’d gone AWOL because he never checked in anyway. On his mom or dad’s birthday, sure. Holidays, sometimes. But they wouldn’t notice a few silent weeks. Hell, they probably wouldn’t have noticed a month or two. 

Guilt hit him, the realisation that half this isolation, this feeling of loneliness and dissatisfaction, was his own fault. He had friends, he had every opportunity to be something else, and he just hadn’t taken it. He’d let himself get sucked into the Bostonian black hole of consulting and live in the shadow of Adam’s wife and kids and picket fence life that he hadn’t actually wanted for himself.

He breathed through it, through the shaking in his hands, and the anxiety tapping at the inside of his head, and he resolved to do better. He couldn’t stay here forever, of course. He wasn’t going to set up shop at Alexei’s rink, and live in this shithole apartment for the rest of his life. But he didn’t want to pretend like whatever was happening here wasn’t significant. That it couldn’t mean change, or some sort of future.

For now, he just wanted to fill that promise he’d made. So he picked up his phone and he swiped onto Bitty’s name, and pushed the button.

It rang three times before a irritated, southern man picked up. “Justin Oluransi, I swear to the lord in _heaven_ if you don’t have a good reason for what you did…”

“Will you accept that I did, but that I really don’t want to talk about it right now?” he offered.

There was a huffing sigh, then a groan. “I suppose I don’t have much choice. Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I sort of owe you an apology, eh? And uh…to see if you can get a favour out of Jack for me.”

“Sweet baby Jesus take the _wheel_ ,” Bitty muttered.

“Aren’t you Jewish?” Justin cut in.

“Don’t you sass me, Justin. Holster calls everyone up in the middle of the dang night and says you’ve quit your job and run away from home and for three weeks your phone is shut off. We thought you might be dead in a ditch somewhere! Holster’s the one who kept us from putting out an APB…”

“It’s…complicated,” Justin said, his voice quiet. “I don’t really know how to explain. I just…I had to get out of there, Bits. I was dying.”

After a pause, Bitty sighed. “Oh honey, I’m…I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Justin felt something unknot in his chest, and he took a breath. “I’m in Providence. Rhode Island? It’s some little town I stopped in and just…didn’t leave.”

“So what do you need?” Bitty asked. “Money? I’ve got plenty saved up if you…”

“No,” Justin said, unable to help a small laugh. “Dude no I…need tickets? To Jack’s game.”

“You need tickets,” Bitty said flatly.

“If I promise to have dinner with you and tell you everything, can you get me tickets?”

There was a clicking sound, like laptop keys, then Bitty said, “Providence is a one hour flight, and I’m booking my ticket right now. Your be-hind better be there to pick me up. And you’d better know a good place to get me a lobster roll, Mr Oluransi.”

Justin laughed. “We can hit up any waterfront place, okay? I…thanks, Bits. Seriously.”

“Seriously,” Bitty repeated, “I’m just glad you’re alive. And _seriously_ , please call Holster. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so upset. Just…I don’t know what happened between y’all and it’s not my business anymore. But I do know he’s hurting, and I don’t think you want that.”

“I don’t,” Justin admitted in a small voice. It was true. He was angry, and confused, but the last thing he wanted was for anyone to hurt over what he’d done. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll text you my info soon as we hang up. Sleep well, hun.”

“Thanks,” Justin said, and he let the phone drop away from his face the second Bitty ended the call. It buzzed a few moments after, with Bitty’s flight info, and although Justin thought maybe Bitty’s aggressively southern ways of getting involved in his business would feel suffocating, instead he felt something else. Something akin to safety. Like a lifeline connecting him to his old life where everything sort of made sense.

He had a feeling seeing a friendly face, one that wasn’t involved in his day to day life, one that hadn’t seen him at his worst, at his most tired, and burnt out, would actually make things better. And if anything, seeing Bitty would be nice. Because holy hell, he really missed his friends.

*** 

**Can we talk?**

_When?_

**I’m meeting with Bits later this afternoon and then I’ll…call?**

_Yeah._

**I am sorry, man. I just…I had to.**

_I think I kind of get that now. We’ll talk about it later._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! I love this ship, and I loved writing this.

Walking into the rink, Justin felt the strangest wave of nerves as the sharp smell of ice hit him. His hands clutched reflexively on the two paper cups in his hand, the heat sinking through the cardboard sleeves into his fingers. It was grounding, in a way, as he pushed past the entrance, and went straight in.

It was still an hour before any of the students were set to arrive, and nearly two hours before Justin was due in for a shift. He wasn’t even sure Alexei was going to be in, but the sound of soft classical music greeted him, and he came to a stand-still when he saw a figure on the ice, doing gentle spins, arms up, one leg extended.

His breath caught as he realised it was Alexei. The tall, lean body curved with the music, the skates picking up speed. His stiff knee was obvious in some places, and Justin could only imagine what he’d been like in top form. But even now, even without his former range of motion, Alexei was beautiful. Not just on the ice, but off. The way he’d carved a place in his small town life for Justin, the way he’d smiled at him, his dark eyes bright with affection—it was more kindness than Justin had been shown in a long time.

Several moments passed by before Alexei noticed him, but when he did, his face softened into a grin, and he skated across the length of the rink, coming to a stop near the boards where Justin was waiting. His gaze flickered to the paper cups, then to Justin’s face as he wrinkled his nose.

“What’s that?”

“Uh. A pre-emptive peace offering?” Justin tried. “I know you hate burnt espresso and too much sugar, so I got a tea latte and uh…I’m hoping it’ll soften you up.” He offered it out, and Alexei eyed him with some suspicion, even as his long fingers curled round the cup.

“What for?”

“I uh…kind of need the day off,” he muttered.

Alexei took a slow drink, his eyes widening in some surprise, and he laughed after swallowing down a mouthful. “You not needing to buy me latte for day off, Jay. You feeling sick? You still not well?” His hand darted out before Justin could react, and he pushed the back of his knuckles to Justin’s forehead, feeling for another fever.

After a moment, his skin heating under Alexei’s touch, Justin stepped back, shaking his head. “No uh…no it’s not. Uh. So I have a friend flying in.”

Alexei’s eyes widened. “Oh yes?”

“I was thinking about it. Um, about what I was running from, you know? It feels so stupid now, the way I panicked.”

Alexei shook his head. “Not stupid.”

“Well it wasn’t exactly the most adult way to deal with my problems,” Justin pointed out, gripping his cup so tightly, the paper began to bow under his fingers. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t find another job, but what kind of grown-ass man just up and leaves his life like that?”

“Sometimes we can’t help way this,” Alexei pushed his palm over the left side of his chest, “feels. Sometimes we needing to do something…drastic. Is right word, drastic?”

Justin let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, that’s a good word for it.”

“Maybe things little bit mess after we come back. Maybe we needing time to think what else we wanting. I’m come here, am happy with new life. Maybe not what I think about when I’m little, when I’m thinking of grown up Alyosha. But change is…okay.”

Justin nodded, his eyes going half-lidded as he let Alexei’s words soothe him. “Still, running away was kind of a bitch move. I made a lot of people worry. I don’t know what I’m going to do after this but uh…I mean. All of this, it means a lot. To me.” He felt ridiculous, the way his words stuttered out, but he appreciated the way Alexei seemed to understand him, even as he tried and failed to sound coherent. “Anyway, I have to pick him up from the airport and then we’re having lunch and stuff. Maybe we can come by later? It would actually be really cool if you wanted to meet him.”

Alexei’s grin softened even more, and there was a look in his eyes Justin couldn’t quite decipher, but it was warm, and he wanted to see more of it. “Yes. That’s good. Come to public skate later.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Justin said. He raised the cup in a gesture of farewell, because if he didn’t do that, he’d do something stupid. Like leaping over the boards and kissing the other man which…well he probably wouldn’t regret it, but he’d probably regret the aftermath of Alexei rejecting him. “I’ll text you,” was what he said next, and then hurried away before he could make a fool of himself.

*** 

The drive to the airport was only a half hour, but he got stuck behind an accident and sent a frantic text off to Bitty, letting him know he’d be late, but he was on his way.

_Don’t worry, there’s coffee here. See you soon!_

Justin drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in angry anxiety as he tried to will the accident off the road, and the cars to start moving. He didn’t want to be stuck here—in his car, alone with his thoughts, his emotions a confusing mess of want and need and regret. He wanted to talk to Adam, he wanted to ask how things had managed to go so far off the rails. He wanted to know when he’d lost what they had before—when their relationship changed, and he’d just failed to see it.

Above all, he just wanted his best friend back. He knew things were changing—there was no going back to what life was like before, and he was okay with that. He was done with the corporate madness and the lukewarm affection of a guy occupying his bed. He was ready to fall in love, to think about futures and his own happiness, and if it meant changing his entire life, he could probably get it done. He was happy to explore whatever was blossoming between him and Alexei—even if it meant figuring out how to live in this small town.

But he didn’t want to do it alone. He didn’t want to be without his friends anymore. 

Knowing Bitty was just on the other side of the freeway was a bridge to that. Proof that those relationships had always been there, waiting for him to get his head out of his ass.

He breathed, let his head fall to the steering wheel, and squeezed his eyes shut, wondering why no one in his life had ever warned him about this sucky part of growing up.

The traffic began to move eventually, and he drove a little recklessly to the airport, paying the absurd amount for short-term parking. He sent Bitty a text, then wandered in through the sea of people checking bags, and managed to find the small waiting area where Bitty said he’d be.

Justin saw him first, then froze in his tracks when he realised Bitty wasn’t alone. No, he was standing with his back to his tall, broad boyfriend, Jack’s head dipped low as he smiled and murmured softly in Bitty’s ear. Justin felt a wave of affection for his friends, and a sudden surge of gratitude because Bitty hadn’t come alone.

And Jack and Justin’s relationship had always been a little complicated. They’d bonded when he and Adam had moved into the haus, but there was always a tension between them when Adam and Jack’s personalities started to conflict, and never really worked themselves out. Justin had been the go-between, and Jack had sort of been the Canadian touchstone whenever Justin was missing home, and feeling too surrounded by too much American.

He remembered talking about Bitty’s miserable pining with Adam. And how Jack was oblivious. He remembered talking to Lardo about Jack’s dedication to hockey, and his internal loneliness and misery, and how whatever else they hoped for him, they hoped he’d be happy.

Justin remembered distinctly the brunch where Jack and Bitty finally felt safe enough to trust them with knowing that they were in love, and how Justin could finally be openly happy for them instead of sitting on the secret he’d known for weeks and weeks.

And now, seeing the two of them, a decade later still as madly in love as they were the day Jack kissed Bitty on graduation well…as fucked as his life felt right now, it made everything feel at least a little bit more right. Even if a tiny flame of resentment settled warm in his belly, because he wanted that too.

“Hey,” Justin said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked up. “Surprise?”

“Oh my lord,” Bitty said, putting a hand to his chest before spinning out of Jack’s arms and dragging Justin in for a hug. “And yes, surprise. Jack wanted to come along, and I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Justin said, and went in for a more awkward, side-bro-hug with Jack. The familiarity of it was a little on the painful side, but in the best way. “I’m glad you guys came.”

“Even if it’s to chew you out?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Bitty.

Justin’s face heated, but he shrugged. “I guess I kind of have it coming. But maybe lobster rolls will soften the blow?”

Bitty deflated a bit, even as he slung his arm round Justin’s waist. “Only a little, mister. But yes, I believe I was promised them.”

Justin laughed, then directed them to where he’d parked the car, and soon enough they were heading to a waterfront café.

*** 

“…and then I just kind of…started driving. It’s not like my proudest moment,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “But also I just didn’t know what the fuck to do.”

Jack and Bitty exchanged a look, then Jack said, “Bittle did the same thing, six years ago.”

Justin’s mouth dropped open, and he just barely managed to save the bite of his sandwich he’d just taken. He choked it down, swallowing a mouthful of water before turning his narrowed eyes on Bitty. “What’s that, now?”

Bitty was pink from his cheeks to his ears, and he shrugged. “I…Jack and I were in a rough patch. I came out to my parents and it didn’t go well, and I got fired from that PR job and…and we started fighting. Everything felt like it was crashing down on me, and Jack…”

“I said something stupid, something I’ll always regret,” Jack admitted. “Bittle kept talking about how he was unhappy and I told him if it was that bad, he should just leave. I didn’t…I didn’t ever mean for him to take me seriously.”

“Holy shit,” Justin said, his voice barely a whisper.

Bitty reached over, grabbing Jack’s hand and kissing it softly. “It was the worst two weeks of my life, but in a way I guess I’m glad it happened the way it did. I think I needed something to kick me in the ass, you know? To get over the idea that things with my parents weren’t going to be the same. To admit I wasn’t actually happy in PR, and tweeting for fun was not the same as social media for a job.”

Justin laughed, rolling his eyes. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Hush your mouth,” Bitty warned, then primly took a bite of lobster before he carried on. “Anyway, Jack and I went to therapy together, and separately. We reaffirmed our relationship, we planned out wedding.” He shrugged. “I’m not saying what you did was a good idea, but I am saying that I understand, because I think in some way, we’ve all been there.”

“You could have done something a lot worse than getting an apartment in a random city,” Jack pointed out, and Justin flinched because yeah, if anyone knew about worse, it was Jack.

He breathed out, then sat back and crossed his arms. “I let things get out of hand without even realising they were out of hand. I don’t think Adam and I have talked—I mean like, really talked—in years. It’s like, he found his groove—wife, kids, he loves that stupid fucking job, all of it. And I just kept going because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. The two of us doing our thing, and I forgot that it’s okay to you know…change.”

“So what now?” Bitty asked. “Are you going to stay here?”

“Yeah, that part I haven’t exactly figured out,” Justin admitted. “I mean, it was nice to kind of lose myself in mindless work—even if it was driving a zamboni and mopping floors, but uh…that’s not…you know.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said, nodding.

“I also don’t want to leave,” Justin said. “I like him. Alexei. I like him a lot, and I want to see where it goes. I just don’t know how the hell I’m going to do that here. Providence is a sweet little town, but it’s not like there’s anything there for me. There’s no work.”

“Oh lord, what year are you livin’ in?” Bitty said, rolling his eyes. “You’re telling me you can’t find some remote position with some firm literally anywhere?”

Justin’s eyes widened. “I didn’t uh…”

“Think of that?” Bitty asked with a small grin.

“I mean, to be fair, he’s kind of having a midlife crisis, Bittle,” Jack defended.

“This is why Jack’s always been my favourite,” Justin said with a small grin.

“Oh hush, you and I both know that me and my Nanaimo bars are your favourite, so I’m not even going to pretend like you’re being serious,” Bitty said primly. “But honestly, it’s an option. And so is here, right?” He gestured round them at the city. “It’s not far from Providence.”

And it wasn’t. A forty minute drive, unless he was stuck behind an accident. Not the worst commute he’d ever made. “Yeah,” he breathed out.

“It’s obvious you need more time, and you’ve got the means to get it,” Bitty said. “Don’t rush through this. You have every right to take a break and figure out what you need to be happy. And if this little town, and that cute Russian skater is it for you, then that’s it for you. We’re here no matter what.”

Justin felt something in his chest unknot, and when he smiled across the table at them, the grin on his face was genuine.

*** 

After showing Jack and Bitty his apartment—getting a ten minute lecture on the state of his cabinets and fridge, and a subsequent trip to the super market so Bitty could not only stock him up with pies, but ensure he’d be doing more than just eating out and living off microwave meals—Justin finally found the courage to drive them to the rink for the start of public skate.

“We’re going to have to rent skates,” Bitty said as they pulled in. “Do they have hockey skates?”

“Oh uh,” Justin said, biting his lip for a second. “Actually, no. Just figure skates.”

Bitty lit up like a candle, and Jack groaned, trying to hush his husband with a kiss when Bitty started chirping him on the toe pick. It sent a thrill through Justin, a feeling of bridging the past and the future in a way he didn’t think was possible.

The rink seemed busy, more cars than usual, so he pulled round back, and let them in through the side door. He could hear top 40 playing on the speakers, and the low din of chatter from people on and off the ice. Justin forced himself to breathe, then led them through the equipment hall, into the main area.

“Skates are there,” he said, and he felt his heart give a thump in his chest as he saw Alexei behind the skate rental counter. Taking the lead, he brought Jack and Bitty over, and felt his heart beat even harder when Alexei saw him, and grinned widely.

“Jay!” Alexei said excitedly. “And you bringing your friends. I was starting to think maybe you have all imaginary ones.”

“Oh my god,” Justin groaned, in spite of his smile. He stepped to the side and gestured to Jack and Bitty. “Alexei, this is Eric Bittle, and Jack Zimmermann.”

“Mm, yes, I’m hear so much about you from Jay,” Alexei said, extending a hand.

Bitty looked like the holidays had come early as he leant over and started talking to Alexei about his rink, about the skates, and how excited he was to meet a new friend of Justin’s. Jack hung back, but he looked quietly pleased with the whole situation, and it wasn’t long before Alexei called someone over to help man the counter, and he passed out several pairs of skates so they could all get on the ice.

It was surreal in a way, like for a moment Justin could forget that things were upside down and broken with the four of them skating across the ice, Bitty chasing Jack, chirping his NHL husband who couldn’t keep up. Alexei kept in close to Justin, leaning in to speak quietly in his ear, the occasional hand at his waist, and Justin knew he wasn’t imagining the heat between them.

He knew the real world was waiting just outside the doors of the rink. Jack and Bitty would fly home the next morning, and Justin would have to decide what the hell he was doing with his life. But for now, it was nice to pretend. For now, when Alexei took his hand and dragged him into an easy spin, he could laugh, and feel like everything was right in the world.

*** 

“…and lord, this one here had to carry me home,” Bitty said, leaning against Jack on Alexei’s sofa. “I’d lost a shoe, was drunker’n I’ve ever been, and I think at one point I was trying to tweet on Dex’s calculator.”

“Yeah, you were,” Justin said with a small laugh. “C had to take it away from you and you cried. Like…actual tears.”

“Sounds like good time,” Alexei said, gently nudging Justin in the ribs. They were squashed together on the love seat, and it would have been awkward, but the entire night had felt so comfortable, like he’d been doing this for years.

When Bitty gave a jaw-cracking yawn, Justin felt disappointment sink into his gut. “You uh…you look tired, Bits. We should probably get you back to my place so you guys can rest before the flight.”

“No,” Alexei said. “Is so late, and I’m having extra room. Just stay.”

Justin wanted to point out that as much as he’d love to relive more college years where he’d slept on random sofas, his body wasn’t exactly built for it anymore. But Bitty and Jack were already saying yes, and saying good night, and following Alexei down the hall and into the spare room.

He sat on the edge of his seat, tense until Alexei showed up, who also looked a little nervous. “Is big bed, or I can sleep here,” he said, sounding more timid than Justin had ever heard him.

“Uh.” Justin blinked for a second. “Dude, no, I can…”

“Don’t mind sharing,” Alexei said, cutting him off.

Justin swallowed, then nodded. A small piece of his mind was screaming at him to stop, to take it slower, to do things the right way. But another piece of him reminded him that the right way was subjective, that he already felt like their pace was so slow it felt like they were going backward. And he’d spent too many years not taking risks, and not letting himself even consider what he wanted.

And he knew he wanted this—wanted Alexei.

His body had no trouble obeying when Alexei beckoned him down to the bedroom. It was large, a huge bed near the window, a wardrobe in the corner. It was a strange mix of personal and impersonal, but Justin figured that’s kind of what happened when you move across an ocean and start over in a brand new city.

Alexei stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, so Justin did the same, and soon enough, they were huddled under the duvet, the room dark and a little cold from a crack in the window. Justin couldn’t help himself from burrowing closer, and Alexei didn’t move back when he did.

“When I was at Samwell,” he said, very soft, “I would do this a lot. I have uh…anxiety. Really bad anxiety. Before I got on meds and everything, I would have these nights where I was just shaking and I couldn’t breathe, so Adam would climb into my bed and hold me until it passed.”

“You feeling that now?” Alexei asked, his voice quiet between them.

Justin shook his head against the pillow. “No. I feel good. I’m…I like it here. With you.” His bravery was making him nervous, but that didn’t stop him from pushing forward. “I like you.”

Though it was dark, Justin’s eyes had adjusted enough to see the curve of Alexei’s grin, and the way his hand moved up, slow and careful, to cup the side of Justin’s face. “I like you.”

Justin laughed, very quietly. “Yeah. Good. That’s…good.”

“We can talk later, yes? When we getting some sleep, not so tired.”

“Yeah,” Justin replied, and his eyes felt heavy, eyelids aching. He shuffled a little closer now, and Alexei’s hand dropped from his cheek to his waist, keeping him in tight.

It was one of the soundest night’s sleep he’d had in years.

*** 

“Promise me you won’t go dark on us again,” Bitty said, his arms tight round Justin’s waist. “I know it was silly of us to just hop on a plane here, but I had to know you were going to be okay. I worry, and I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Justin said, burying his face in Bitty’s neck for a minute. “But I’ll be seeing you guys soon, right?”

“Oh,” Jack said, and reached into his carry bag, pulling out an envelope which had two tickets, and passes so they could get through to the locker room. “If you need help with plane tickets…”

“No, man,” Justin said with a laugh, dragging Jack in for a far more comfortable hug than they’d exchanged when Jack first arrived. “I got it. And anyway, I was kind of thinking road trip before I uh…you know.”

“Get on with the rest of your life?” Jack offered.

Justin punched him lightly on the arm. “Rude. But yes. Thanks for showing up here. It meant a lot.”

Bitty chastised him for thanking them for doing what friends do, then the pair of them went through security, and Justin headed back to his car. He switched it on, but before he reached for the gear, he realised he had one more thing to do, and as much as it made his stomach hurt, he couldn’t put it off.

He dragged his phone out of his pocket, brought up Adam’s number, and called.

It rang enough times he thought it was going to voice mail, but then Adam picked up. “Dude. I just left a meeting for you, so this had better be fucking good.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin said.

There was a long pause, then Adam let out a sharp, short breath. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, I should have called. Or said something, you know,” Justin said.

Adam let out a thick laugh, then cleared his throat. “No, man. You didn’t…I mean shit, you told me. You fucking told me that shit was going on and I told you to go propose. I mean, what kind of bullshit advice… You didn’t even like that guy. It was so obvious, and he was such a douche!”

Justin huffed something like a laugh, letting his head fall down against the steering wheel as relief hit him. Hard enough to make him feel dizzy. “He was a douche. But I was the one who stayed with him that fucking long. And I knew, dude. I knew what he was up to and I didn’t say anything for months because I just didn’t care. I was so miserable and I didn’t care.”

“And I didn’t notice, so what the fuck does that say about me?” Adam pressed. “What the fuck happened to us, Rans?”

The old nickname was like a punch to the chest, but he smiled in spite of himself. “We grew up, like normal people, we just forgot to realise it. I forgot to give a shit about what I wanted, and I forgot that we weren’t going to be the same.”

“I didn’t want that for us,” Adam said, his tone suddenly miserable. “That wasn’t supposed to be us.”

“I don’t think we get to choose that, bro,” Justin said, and he found that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it would have just weeks ago. “I think that you were supposed to fall in love and have kids and live this life. I just…I wasn’t.”

“So what now? Are you ever coming home?”

“I don’t,” he said, then stopped, because he was going to be brutally honest for the first time in a long time. “I don’t think so. That’s not home, you know. I think I found something here. Someone. I want to see where it goes.”

“Fuck.” Adam’s voice was thick. “Fuck. I don’t want you to stay there.”

“I’m not far,” he reminded him. “Seriously, I made it like an hour, dude. You’re not going to lose me. I just can’t live that life anymore.”

“I get it,” Adam said. “It sucks, but I get it. I hope you fucking know I’m going to meet this guy though. And I will kick his ass if he’s anything like Mitch.”

“Yeah,” Justin said, grinning to himself. “Yeah, I know. Maybe you can meet him when I head up there for all my shit. We’ll get drinks.”

“Okay. Just, promise me this isn’t it. I’m not done with you. Ride or die, right?”

“Ride or die,” Justin echoed. “I’ll call you soon. Get back to your meeting.”

“Okay,” Adam said, a little breathy. “Go get laid.”

Justin laughed, then hung up on him, put his car into drive, and headed off toward happiness.

*** 

**Epilogue**

“Okay, I’m change my mind. I’m giving up rink, live here now.”

“What, in the jacuzzi?” Justin asked with a wry grin as Alexei leant over and dipped his hand in the water.

“Yes. You can visit me here.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “That rink is your baby, and think of the children, babe. They’ll be so sad.”

“They getting over it when I invite them to my hot tub,” Alexei said with a grin, reaching out to grab Justin’s front, dragging him over.

Justin rolled his eyes. “First rule of hot tubes, dude, don’t let kids in. Just…trust me. It’s like, not safe for them, plus they’re fucking gross.”

Alexei sighed, looking round at the enclosed room. “You not telling me you were this rich. Maybe I’m try to impress you more before…if I knew.”

Justin laughed, cupping Alexei’s chin to kiss him. “Dude, you won me over with your shitty ass skate rink food and your broken coffee maker, okay?”

“Hmm, okay,” Alexei said, then kissed him a little longer. When they broke apart, Alexei kept him in close, the pair of them looking through the large windows, over the streets which were still slushy with the last of the winter’s snow. “You sure you wanting to sell, though? Is nice place. I’m visit a lot, not far drive.”

“I’m sure,” Justin said, then hesitated before he said, “I want to be closer to you. And uh…I was thinking like…okay maybe it’s too fast, and I don’t mean right away but…” He cleared his throat, trying to work through his nerves. “Maybe we can think about getting a place together. Maybe even building one. In the future, of course.”

Justin let out an undignified yelp when he was spun, and dipped, and kissed breathless. When Alexei pulled back, Justin was still arched toward the floor, and he was lost in the excited twinkle of his boyfriend’s eyes. “Can it have hot tub?”

Justin laughed, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to process just how fucking happy he was feeling. “Yeah babe,” he said as Alexei finally righted him. “It can totally have a hot tub.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr if you like, [angryspace-ravenclaw](https://angryspace-ravenclaw.tumblr.com)


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